


Illogical Wishes and Logical Farewells

by Slwmtiondaylite



Series: Feeling Right [1]
Category: Star Trek: 2009
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-09
Updated: 2009-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slwmtiondaylite/pseuds/Slwmtiondaylite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're leaving, aren't you?" It took him a moment to answer. "I have no choice." His voice was quiet, grave. He did not want to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illogical Wishes and Logical Farewells

The doors slid open and Spock stood at the entry way. She stood across the empty mess hall, looking out the large windows to the stars. He hesitated as he observed her somewhat tense form. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist as she gazed out, shoulders tense. He dreaded this conversation, though he was loath to admit such a human emotion. He purposely chose to ignore that loathing was yet another emotion.

Slowly, Spock approached, stopping when he reached her side. A quick glance told him she was trying desperately to keep a tight rein on her emotions.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Her question surprised him. He had not anticipated it. He had not anticipated her knowing what he was to do before he informed her.

It took him a moment to answer. "I have no choice." He voice was quiet, grave. He did not want to leave. He wished to stay here. On the Enterprise. With his new friends. With her.

But it was not meant to be.

He noted that she refused to meet his eyes, instead choosing to stare straight ahead.

"I understand. It's the most logical decision," she said. He thought he could detect a slight waver in her voice, hinting that she was not as calm as she wanted him, and possibly herself, to believe.

"Those are the same words my father gave me on the subject," he replied. And indeed they were. After the fight against Nero and the _Narada_ , Sarek had taken his son aside to discuss his future and that of all remaining Vulcans. Though still deep in mourning for the woman they both loved deeply even if never adequately expressed, it was time, Sarek explained, for them to look to the future. And that future logically included marriage and offspring.

"He's right though, isn't he?" her voice broke through his thoughts.

He hesitated in his response. He did not like this obligation. "Yes. As we Vulcans now face the threat of extinction, we must band together and rebuild our race."

"Do you know who you are to be bonded with?"

Spock was not surprised by her question. She was well-versed in the culture and tradition of Vulcan. Most of what she knew came from him, the rest from various texts. Her knowledge was not surprising. What surprised him was the distant manner in which she asked the question. She did not sound like a lover learning that her mate was leaving her for another. She sounded, he was hesitant to place a label on it, cold, detached. She behaved as though the question's answer would not affect her. Perhaps he had misread her upon his entrance into the room. Maybe she was not trying to rein in her emotions. Maybe she really was unaffected by this. He found himself disturbed by this.

"I do not," he answered. "As T'Pring was among those left on Vulcan when it was consumed by the black hole, Father has informed me that he is seeking an appropriate mate for me."

Now she gave him an emotional response. Surprised, she swung her head towards him, finally looking at him as she asked, "You don't get to choose?"

"No. That is not our way. My father's choice will be the most...logical."

Her gaze returned to the stars, "That sounds so cold."

Spock nodded, though he knew she was not looking at him, "Perhaps. But with so few of us left, we cannot afford to be...choosy."

An awkward silence settled between them as neither dared to speak nor make a move. Spock found his eyes drifting over to her face. He would not admit it aloud, but he wished for a different reaction from her. He had expected her to fight for them. Instead, she seemed resigned, having given up the battle before truly beginning it. He had wanted her to fight for them because he could not.

And, apparently, she would not either.

Perhaps she did not care enough to do so.

"Well, I wish you well. _Sochya eh dif,_ " she finally spoke.

Peace and long life. She was bidding him farewell. He faltered, imperceptible to most, but usually not to her, had she been looking in his direction. But again, she seemed determined to not look at him. He found himself hurt by this.

After a moment, or perhaps, it was two – he found himself losing track of the passage of time as he mulled over her behavior towards him – Spock turned. Slowly, he placed one foot in front of the other as he headed for the doors. But then he halted. He _needed_ to. He needed her to know he was not as unaffected as she appeared to be. "Nyota," he spoke quietly.

She turned around, arms still wrapped around her waist, "Yes?"

Spock hesitated when he saw her wet eyes. He now understood she was affected, but had been attempting to appear unaffected. She was trying to be Vulcan. For him. "You have not asked me my feelings and desires on this. I believe this is customary among humans."

She sighed, "You're right. I'm sorry. Is this what you want?"

Now, even though he had wanted her to ask the question and he had wanted her to know, he found himself hesitating to actually answer her. It was not common for him to express his emotions in words. But he would try. For her. "No. I wish to remain with you. I wish for you to no longer be in pain." As he spoke, he slowly returned to her. Once he was within reach, he wiped a rebel tear that had managed to escape her tight control from her cheek. "I wish for your tears to retreat."

And that's when the proverbial dam broke and her tears began to fall unchecked down her face. It unnerved him. He did not like seeing her in pain. Especially when he was the cause of it. This reminded him of an incident that occurred during their time at the Academy. It occurred when he unintentionally misunderstood her intentions of taking their relationship to the next level. He had been uncharacteristically and unintentionally cruel to her when he had prevented her from kissing him. So cruel that it resulted in her that incident, he had found himself deeply affected by her tears and had vowed to himself that he would make considerable effort to never be the cause of her tears again.

It would seem that he failed.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, "I need you to know I love you."

He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face and laid his forehead to hers. " _Talunk nash-veh k'dular_ ," he whispered.

"Will I see you again?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes.

"I hope –" He stopped himself. Hope was an irrational, illogical and indulgent concept. Over his years on Earth, he witnessed humans hope only to have those hopes dashed. He observed the emotional detriment those lost hopes had. He could not allow himself to engage in it. It was illogical to hope that he could remain or that he would see her again, when he knew he could not. He knew that he needed to prepare her for his departure. So, instead of completing his statement of hope, he chose a more Vulcan approach.

"It was a great honor and privilege to get to know you. I shall cherish our time together."

It was a testament to how well she knew him when she did not become upset with his statement. She understood that he was trying to maintain control of his emotions. That he was not trying to trivialize their relationship.

"If…if things had turned out differently, would you stay?" she asked, returning her gaze to the stars.

Spock gave a small shake of his head, "It is illogical to participate –"

"Please, just indulge me," she pleaded.

He looked at her for a brief moment then quietly said, "Yes. I would stay." He suddenly found himself giving into the indulgent behavior of hoping, "And perhaps I will return in time. Perhaps once my duty to my people has been fulfilled."

They were quiet, staring out into the black expanse of space, content to remain in each other's company for as long as possible. Spock found himself reaching for her hand. She let out a gasp as he brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss upon it.

"I must go. My father wishes to speak to me," he said, gripping her hand tightly, moving closer to her. His actions were in exact opposition to his words.

Suddenly, Nyota could no longer resist and moved into his arms, clinging to him. She drew his face down to hers and kissed him. He kissed back, allowing his arms to wrap around her waist. He pulled her closer. It was during these moments that he allowed the most emotion to filter through.

Breaking the kiss, Nyota said, "I'll be waiting. For you to come back."

Her tears had begun to fall again. He could not stand seeing them. He reached up and brushed them away again. He realized that she was still wishing. She wished for his return. He could not allow her to place such importance on a hope that may not come to fruition. He did not want her to be hurt when he did not return.

"'There are plenty of fish in the sea' I believe is the idiom humans use. I do not wish for you to feel obligated to me, especially as I may not return. I wish for you to find happiness," he stated.

She shook her head, "I won't be happy with anyone but you. I'll wait forever if I have to."

"Forever is an irrational word," he countered quietly.

"I don't care," she retorted. "I'll wait for as long as I have to."

He nodded, allowing her this one hope. It was clear to him that she needed this. She needed to hold on to that wish.

"I must go," he whispered. He was speaking of both his need to speak with his father and his obligation to leave her and Starfleet.

They kissed again.

Spock only allowed it to be brief. He found himself slowly losing his resolve.

He pulled away and with one last lingering look, he left.

* * *

The doors slid open and Spock exited the mess hall. He halted immediately when he saw his father, standing regally before, hands clasped behind his back. Spock found himself wondering how long Sarek had been there. Had his father seen the exchange between him and Lieutenant Uhura? And if so, would he say anything on the subject? Spock doubted it.

"Father."

Sarek nodded in greeting, "Son."

Spock glanced behind him, at the closed doors, "I have just finished preparing for our departure upon our arrival to Earth within the hour."

Sarek nodded, following his son's eyes, "Very good."

Spock couldn't read his father's inscrutable expression. He had gotten used to humans' tendency to broadcast their thoughts and emotions. This bothered him. However he would not dwell on it. Because no matter how much it bothered him, it did not bother him as much as the thought of a future without his Nyota.

Realizing his father was expecting a reply, he gave a hesitant "Yes."

Sarek tilted his head in acknowledgment and father and son proceeded down the corridor, one moving confidently forward, the other fighting the urge to glance behind him, where he knew his desire was.


End file.
